Past, Present, Future
by Elle More
Summary: Danny life has been a little less than perfect lately, to put it lightly. But when a hit and run leads him to an old flame, will things get better, or is he just making them worse? DOC She's not a MarySue, I promise!


Disclaimer: You should already know what isn't really mine. The plot and all the OCs are, so don't' steal them. I'll be very unhappy…or something.

A/N: So…reviews make me giddy and all that jazz. Try not to be mean, I already get enough of that from my parents. I'll update as much as I can, hopefully at least once a week. But I start my junior year tomorrow, so who knows. Reviews tend to give me motivation though. wink, wink

"Danny! Danny, I know you're there. Get up!"

Danny groaned in his sleep, "Shut uuup."

"I swear to God, Messer. Don't make me drive over there and drag you out of bed," Aiden yelled into the answering machine.

"I'd like to see you try," Danny mumbled into his pillow.

Aiden waited another moment, then sighed and hung up. Danny smiled and snuggled back under his covers.

"That's what I thought," he said to himself.

Just then, he heard the buzzing off his cell phone on the nightstand. He groaned again and sat up, "Fine! Fine, damnit!"

He reached over for the phone, but misjudged and fell off the bed in a heap, just as he flipped it open.

"Fuck!" he yelled as he landed on his bad wrist, "What the hell do you want!"

"Good morning to you, too," Aiden's voice answered him.

Danny squinted up at the clock on his nightstand. 3:14.

"It's too early for morning, call back at eleven."

"Sorry, sleeping beauty. Crime waits for no man," he heard her take a sip of what he assumed was a latte.

"You better have bought me one, too," he warned.

"I did. But I'm gonna drink it in ten minutes if you don't get down here."

Danny sighed and sat up against his nightstand, "You're lucky I'm naturally good looking and it doesn't take me too long to get ready."

"Yeah, yeah," Aiden rolled her eyes, "Hit and run outside the Times building. And hurry up in case Mac comes down. You're already number one on his shit list."

"Lucky me," Danny said as he flipped the phone closed. He stared at it for a minute, and then leaned his head back and closed his eyes. It was gonna be a long day.

Danny slid his black BMW Z4 behind one of the police cruisers. He pushed the door open and angled out, sliding his gun into the holster. He made his way through the crowd of people around the crime scene tape, flashing his badge at the uniforms.

Aiden was crouched down next to the body, checking the pockets for identification.

Danny crouched down next to her, "What'd we got?" he asked.

"Male, looks like mid-thirties. No ID," she answered.

Danny looked the body up and down and nodded, "Where's my latte?" he asked.

"This latte?" he heard Flack's voice behind him.

He spun around to find Flack finishing off the rest of his latte.

Danny glared at him, "Gimmie that!" he demanded and grabbed it from him.

He tipped the Styrofoam cup back, hoping to at least get a sip. Nothing.

"Bitch," Danny grumbled, throwing the cup at Flack.

Flack dodged the cup and laughed, "It was good, too."

Danny pouted, "Aiden! Why'd you let Flack drink my latte?"

"I couldn't stop him," she answered without looking up.

"You have a gun!" Danny whined, "What do you mean you couldn't stop him? All you had to do what shoot him in the foot or something."

"Quit whining, Danny," Stella said, striding over to them, "You sound like a girl."

"Flack drank my latte!"

Stella rolled her eyes and handed him hers, "Here. I'm awake enough already."

"Aw, thanks, Stella," Danny said, taking a long gulp, "Flack owes you."

"Whatever," Stella said, "Any witnesses?" she asked, turning to Flack.

"Old lady over there says she saw some sort of silver sports car speeding down the rode around the time of the accident," he said, gesturing over his shoulder at a little, elderly lady in a pink bathroom, craning her neck to try and see what was going on.

"And since Danny owns half the sports cars in New York," Flack continued, "I think he's a reasonable suspect. Messer, where were you around one o'clock this morning?" he asked jokingly.

"In my apartment," Danny answered as he crouched down and took a pair of rubber gloves from Aiden, "Drinking beer and watching porn."

Aiden and Stella both made a face.

Danny snickered, "I'm kidding, you prudes," he said, snapping the gloves on.

Stella looked over at Aiden, "Anything off the body?"

Aiden shook her head, "No ID," she answered, "But the guys pretty beat up. Judging from the way he was laying when I got here, he had to have been hit pretty hard and the car had to be going pretty fast. He flew at least ten feet."

Stella nodded and watched the coroner van slowly creep it's way over to them, "The lady you talk to describe the car anymore than silver?" she asked Flack.

"I tried to get more out of her, but then she started screaming about 'kids these days' and 'crazy drivers'," Flack answered.

"I'll go talk to her," Danny said," standing back up and pulling off the gloves. He picked his latte up off the ground and took a sip, "Flack has no people skills."

Flack opened his mouth to retort, but Danny had already turned and started walking away towards the little old lady in the bathrobe. She was griping at two uniforms about speed limits and seatbelts. Both officers looked relieved when they saw Danny making their way toward them and quickly hurried off.

The lady stopped mid-sentence, "Who're you?" she asked Danny.

Danny took another swallow of latte, "Detective Danny Messer," he said, extending his free hand. The old lady stared at it.

Danny slowly pulled his hand back, feeling young and stupid.

"And you are?" he asked her.

"Patty Freeman," she said, sticking her nose up in the air, "I saw that shiny sports car speeding down the road past my house while I was watching Wheel of Fortune. Kids these days. It's a wonder they aren't all dead! And don't think I didn't see you race up in that shiny black Porsche!…"

"BMW," Danny corrected.

The old lady narrowed her eyes at him, "And you're all little smart asses, too!" she continued, "Sneaky, speeding, little smart asses!"

Flack appeared next to Danny, "So, how's it goin' Mr. People Skills?" he asked, grinning.

Danny ignored him, "Ma'am," he said, trying to interrupt Mrs. Freeman's bitch fit.

"…Back when I grew up, things like this didn't fly…"

"MA'AM!"

The old lady stopped, "Don't you raise your voice at me!" she said, "Or I won't answer any of your questions! Not that my answers do any good. The law doesn't respect the elderly these days, thinks we're all mindless old coots…"

"Mrs. Freeman," Danny said, inwardly counting to ten to calm himself, "I don't think you're a 'mindless old coot'," _Though I do think you're annoying as all hell_, "I just need to know if you can describe the car you saw in any more detail."

Mrs. Freeman thought a moment and then said, "It was a little silver thing. Had some kind of animal design on the front. Looked like a cow, maybe? There was writing on the back, too. Something that started with an 'L'…Limbo…Lembo…she kept mumbling things to herself."

"Lamborghini?" Danny offered.

"That's the one!" the Mrs. Freeman exclaimed, "Went speeding down the road like it was a race track. If you ask me, they shouldn't make cars that go that fast. They're just asking for trouble in my opinion…"

"Okay!" Danny said hastily, "Thank you, Mrs. Freeman. If you remember anything else just…"

"I know, I know," Mrs. Freeman said, "Contact the police. Phooey. They never answer the phones there anyway."

Danny and Flack both turned and hurried away before she started again.

"My God," Danny said when they were out of earshot, "If I ever get that old and miserable, do me a favor and blow my fucking brains out."

"Told you so," Flack said as they both passed under the crime scene tape and headed for their cars, "I'm gonna go grab something to eat at McDolands' before I head to the lab", he said as he walked over to the police cruiser in front of Danny's car, "You want anything?"

"Nah, I'm alright," Danny said, opening his door and angling down into the driver's seat, "See ya later, man," he said before closing the door."

"Later," Flack called back, getting into the cruiser.

Danny pushed the doors to the coroner's lab open, "What'd'ya got for me, Hawkes," he asked, striding over to table the vic was on.

Hawkes stood on the other side of the table, staring down at the body, "Cause of death," he started, "Blunt force trauma."

"Surprise, surprise," Danny mumbled.

"My guess is, he died almost instantly," Hawkes continued, "Got hit in the torso, flew about ten, fifteen feet, dead before he landed."

Danny nodded.

"Also, the guys BAC was 2.1," Hawkes said, looking up at Danny.

"Woah," Danny said, "So, drunk guy goes wandering into the street, speeding driver doesn't see him until it's too late."

Hawkes nodded, "And, I've got a present that'll make your job a whole lot easier," he reached over and picked up an evidence bag on the table next to him. Inside was a plain, gold bracelet covered in blood, with a very clear print right near the clasp.

"Nice," Danny said, smiling, "So guys hits the vic, gets out to see if he's okay, turns him over by grabbing his wrist."

Hawkes nodded, "Finds out he's dead, gets back in his car, and speeds off in the opposite direction," he handed the bag over to Danny.

"Thanks," Danny said, taking the bag and turning to leave.

"Oh!" Hawkes said, "And Mac's looking for you."

Danny sighed. Great.

Aiden and Danny sat in front of the computer screen, waiting impatiently as the print ran through their database.

"Did you ever go talk to Mac?" Aiden asked.

"No."

"Are you going to?"

"No."

Aiden sighed, "You ask for it, you know that?"

"Do not," Danny retorted.

They returned to silence.

"Did you go for your psyche evaluation yet?" Aiden asked next.

"No."

"You know it's mandatory right."

"And?"

"And do you need me to define mandatory for you?" she raised an eyebrow.

"I don't need a psyche evaluation," he said, "I'm fine."

"Mhm," Aiden said, not believing a word of it.

Danny ignored her and watched as the print match loaded on the screen.

"James Thomas," Aiden read the name out loud, "Was arrested in 2000 for spousal abuse, then again in '03 for attacking a sales clerk at Wal-Mart."

Danny chuckled, "Doesn't surprise me," he said, "This guy's an asshole."

"You know him?" Aiden asked, scrolling down the page.

"Yeah, I went to high school with him. He tried to steal my girlfriend senior year," he answered, reading the page as it moved.

"I take it by 'tried' you mean he didn't succeed," she said.

"Please," Danny said, "He didn't have a chance."

Aiden smiled and shook her head, turning back to the screen, "Oh look, owner of a 2003 Lamborghini. That's a shocker."

"Think we should go pay ol' Jimmy a visit?" Danny asked.

"Think so," Aiden said, writing the address down on a sheet of paper.

They both stood up to leave but were only halfway to the door when Mac walked in.

"I need to speak with you," he said to Danny without any type of hello or welcoming gesture.

Danny inwardly groaned, "Aiden and I were just leaving to go talk to a suspect on the hit and run," he said, sounding like a kid trying to get out of a punishment.

"It won't take long," Mac said firmly.

Danny hopelessly searched his brain for some other excuse to delay their 'speaking', which he was sure would end up being him getting yelled at about how he was reckless, not qualified for his job, and generally just sucked.

"Okay," he said, "Gimmie a sec, Aid."

"No problem," Aiden said, "I've gotta talk to Hawkes anyway. Come find me when you're done."

Danny nodded and followed after Mac, who gave Aiden a quick nod as they walked away. They made their way to Mac's office, where he walked around his desk and Danny flopped down into one of the chairs opposite it.

"Have you gone for your psyche evaluation yet?" Mac asked, shifting through papers on his desk as he stood there.

"Um…" Danny started, "I haven't exactly had time," he lied.

Mac looked up at him like he was about to say something, then thought better of it and sat down in his chair.

They sat in silence for a full minute before Danny broke the silence.

"Is that what this is about?" he asked, "My psyche evaluation?"

"No," Mac said, folding his hands on his desk, "This is about your shooting incident two weeks ago."

Danny shifted uncomfortably in his chair, "What about it?" he asked.

"You may not be as lucky as you thought."

Danny bit his lip, "What'd you mean?"

"I mean that the department may be pressing charges after all," Mac clarified.

"But I thought you said…"

"I know what I said. But that was before someone looked up you arrest record and found out about previous gang activity," Mac leaned back in his chair, "Now, I knew about that from the beginning, but apparently, you're gang activity was a lot more prominent than I understood."

Dan sat silently.

"You told me you were never a part of Tanglewood, Danny."

"I was…" Danny started, but stopped, "It was a long time ago."

"Yeah, I know," Mac said, "the DA knows that too, but unfortunately, they don't seem to care."

Danny bit down harder on his lip, "So what're you saying?

"I'm saying that you might be in a lot more trouble than you thought you were."

A/N: Remember what I said about reviews? Okay, good. I'm done begging like a lunatic now.


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